Journal of Lawrence Robinson: page 2

I met a man today. A merchant, he calls himself. I think he may be more. The items he sells are quite unusual. I'd say he's some sort of grave robber, maybe a treasure hunter. His name is Milo. He told me of some of his travels, which seem to be no more than tall tales. We got into a discussion, and my instincts took over. I attacked every corner of his story with science. He told me that "not everything can be explained with science." He added that I should think of getting a new profession. I can see where he's coming from. No universities, public schools; he suggested hunting. He may have a point. I enjoy archery. I'm sure there's plenty more to enjoy about it.